


Locked In

by atamascolily



Category: Dragonriders of Pern - Anne McCaffrey, Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Pern Fusion, Angst and Drama, Blame it on the Dragons, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Cupboard Sex, Dragon Riders, Dragons, F/M, Locked In, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Prompt Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-27
Updated: 2019-02-27
Packaged: 2019-11-06 08:07:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17936015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/atamascolily/pseuds/atamascolily
Summary: Mara's determined to avoid coupling with anyone--especially one Luke Skywalker--when her dragon rises, and seeks a place to hide where she won't be disturbed. Fate has other plans in store.(Or, the Pern/Star Wars Legends crossover nobody asked for.)





	Locked In

**Author's Note:**

> So this was written as part of a Trope/Kink Roulette Challenge from the Fic Whining Circle - I chose AU: Fantasy, and Locked In.
> 
> Mara's dragon is named Laranth, as a nod to an obscure Legends character I'm fond of.

Mara wasn't sure how she knew Laranth would fly today. Maybe it was that the green dragon's scales seemed to glow in the sunlight or maybe it was the gusto with which she devoured the runnerbeast, or maybe it'd been about three months since the last time and she was due. Whatever the trigger, the knowledge hit her in the gut as she watched her dragon feed. She turned away, her mind racing as she tried to think of the nearest hiding place. 

The rest of Rogue Squadron noticed, because of course they did. They didn't make much of a fuss, because Laranth was a green, and greens were always coming in heat, and it wasn't like a _queen_ or anything. That didn't stop Janson and Chelchu from cracking dirty jokes and gossiping as they loitered against the rock wall of the weyr, as Tzivanth and Dorth followed Laranth's every move with whirling eyes. 

"...don't stand a chance, Skywalker's here today. Artanth's the fastest, always has been, and Skywalker's the best rider on the planet, full stop. He ought to be Weyrleader up at Fort, except that Organa won't let anyone but Falcanth bed Alderenth, even though Falcanth's a _brown_." 

"I'm sure he and Solo have a gentlemen's arrangement to keep Arthanth out of the running, but Solo's no slouch, you know; he's a good weyrleader and his riders respect him. Falcanth might not look like much, but he's big for a brown. And you know what they say--the bigger the dragon, the bigger the--"

Mara knew very well what they said; it was a favorite boast among male dragonriders, particularly if they rode a bronze. In her experience, an obsession with size said far more about the human than anything about the dragon. It was just as pervasive a myth as "green riders are always asking for it," on account of their dragons' sexual proclivities. She wasn't going to stick around long enough to find out. 

So Skywalker was here, too, in addition to the usual passle of Benden riders. Damn the man, he must have just arrived. She ground her teeth as she hurried into the weyr, ducking down the passageway towards the kitchens. She was too far away from her quarters to seek shelter there, and she was too low in the hierarchy here at Benden to have a room of her own. Mirax and Iella were unlikely to be there at this hour, but she didn't want to risk it. So the storerooms it was. 

As she ran, the buzzing in her mind increased in direct proportions to Laranth's lust. The green hadn't eaten much of the runnerbeast, only blooded it, which meant this would be a longer flight than normal. That meant Mara's ordeal would drag on, but it would also give her more time to find shelter. The last thing she wanted was to be stuck in a crowded corridor when the mating lust hit. 

In the grand scheme of things, it didn't matter how long the flight lasted. Laranth wasn't a queen; she might lay eggs as a result of the day's mating, but they wouldn't be fertile on account of all the firestone she chewed. It was just as well: greens mated so frequently that the planet would be drowning in dragons if every egg survived to term. Greens wouldn't have made good mothers, anyway--too restless, too flighty. That was what queens were for to lay fertile eggs and preserve the species. Their flights were momentous, with the leadership of the weyr decided by the winner of the flight. 

In Mara's opinion, it was a stupid tradition, and Leia Organa had made the right call to decide who _she_ wanted first, rather than let nature take its course. Not that that made Mara like Organa any better, but she appreciated the woman's priorities. _She_ wouldn't have wanted to sleep with Skywalker either. Not that Skywalker wasn't attractive, but--not her taste. Not her type. Not her choice. Especially not when--

After Laranth's disastrous first flight, Mara had vowed she would be the one to choose her partners and not her dragon. Oh, it was fine if Laranth wanted to have a little fun now and then; Mara wouldn't deny her dragon anything. But she wasn't going to get caught up in dragon-driven lust again, not if she had any say in the matter. 

There was a spare pantry down in the lowest levels of the weyr--a closet, really, but it had a door that could be jury-rigged to lock from the inside, and that all she needed. She threw herself into the narrow opening, choking at the sudden swirl of dust she'd stirred up, slamming the door behind her. In the darkness, she had to work by feel and the knob broke off in her hand as she slid the bolt closed at last. There would be hell to pay later, when some drudge heard her pounding and opened the door (and Janson and Celchu would never let her live it down), but she was _alone_ and that was all that mattered--

Something shifted behind her. She whirled and threw the doorknob at the sound; it didn't have to travel far before she was rewarded for her efforts by a muttered curse. 

"That wasn't very nice," a familiar voice said out of the darkness. 

The blood drained from Mara's face as comprehension dawned. "Skywalker! What the _hell_ are you doing _here_ \--" 

"I could ask the same of you." As her eyes adjusted to the faint cracks of light seeping in around the doorframe, she could see the last person she ever wanted to encounter silhouetted against the back of the storage closet, rubbing his arm where the doorknob had struck him. Luke Skywalker, rider of bronze Arthanth, hero of the Weyrwars, and Wingsecond at Fort Weyr under Solo and Organa, right here in the storeroom with her. 

"I wouldn't have come to Benden today if I'd known Laranth would be going into heat. The _last_ thing I wanted was to be near you, given your feelings for me. Now, if you'll excuse me--" 

He had to brush past Mara to get the door; the closet was barely big enough for two to stand abreast. She shivered at his touch, swallowing a moan as somewhere in the outside world, Laranth purred with satisfaction and took flight, a host of blues, browns, and bronze dragons in hot pursuit. 

"I can't get the door open." There was a note of panic in Skywalker's voice, Mara noted, with the one rational piece of her mind still left to her. "Mara. What happened to the door? Mara. Mara--?"

He grabbed her shoulders, and shook her. She was too dazed to fight back, slumping against him as Laranth spiraled high overhead, dodging with coquettish spins from any male that ventured too close. "Mara. I have to get out of here. I don't want to hurt you again. What did you do to the door?" 

The knob. She couldn't see where it had rolled in the darkness, wasn't sure it would help, but her mouth wouldn't work properly and she'd lost the capacity for speech. Laranth dived, twisting, flirting. There were so many dragons after her, including a handful of bronzes. Normally, bronzes wouldn't bother with a mere green, preferring to leave this one to the blues and browns, but apparently, Laranth's rising had caught them off-guard and instinct had triumphed over intellect once again. 

"It's not--my--FAULT!" With sudden burst of strength, Mara pushed Skywalker back against the wall of the storeroom. " _Laranth_ \--" 

As if she heard Mara's call, the green dragon turned in midair, streaking back towards her pursuers. Only one of them was quick enough on the uptake to turn in time, reaching out with massive metallic wings to embrace the green dragon even as she spread her own in welcome-- 

It was too much, too soon, too fast. A human being couldn't contain so much emotion, so much feeling. Mara flung herself against Skywalker, her cry muffled as her mouth found his. Skywalker struggled for a moment against her before surrendering, letting her press his head into the wall and set the tempo. 

Green met bronze. Flesh met flesh in darkness. Warmth and heat and blood rose buzzing--and, in Mara's head, the faintest trace of smug satisfaction as Laranth and her rider mirrored each other. _Not so bad, is it?_ Laranth said with a chuckle. 

Mara was too busy for a suitably caustic reply. 

***

She awoke in darkness, naked and sticky and smelling faintly of onions, slumped against the wall with Skywalker pressed against her. Somehow, in the confusion they'd switched places--several times, she recalled with a flush. Even as she stirred, he moaned, his hand reaching up to trace her face, just as he'd done the last time they'd found themselves in a similar position. 

"'M sorry," he said, pulling away from her as she flinched. "I know you didn't--not after what happened before, but I didn't--" 

"Hush," she said, too weary to argue now. She didn't want to talk about it, didn't want to hear his excuses or think of her own. The worst had happened, now it was time for damage control. 

"How do we get out of here?" he said at length. "Preferably _without_ bringing the entirety of the Weyr upon us?" 

She sat up, stretched in the darkness, until she found the knob on the floor and handed it to him. "Try this first. Then pull back the bolt." 

He took it gingerly from her. "And I just screw it in?" 

Mara coughed.

"Pun unintended, of course," he added hastily. She thought he might have blushed. He reached for the door and began fiddling with the locking mechanism. "You really didn't know I was here?" 

"No." Why would a Fort rider be hiding in a Benden storeroom? He said he'd meant to avoid her. She hadn't realized he cared about her feelings that much. Not that it made this whole episode any less mortifying, but--

"Mara." He was still fumbling with the door, and she couldn't get out or get away until it opened, no matter how much she wanted to. Maybe Laranth could wedge herself through the passageways long enough to spew enough flame to melt the door down--preferably _without_ roasting her rider in the process. Skywalker, on the other hand...

_He's a good man,_ Laranth said sleepily in her head, curled up in the warm sun against Artanth's bulk. _You fit well together, make a good team. I don't know why you fight it so much._

_Quiet, you,_ Mara said. _This is all your fault._

Laranth rumbled her amusement. _Stay in your den, then. Unless you want me and Artanth to ask the other dragons if their riders will let you out?_

"Laranth giving you a hard time, huh?" Skywalker's voice cut in, saving Mara the effort of anything more than a very firm, _No_ to her dragon's suggestion. 

"You know dragons," she said, trying to sound casual, or as casual as she could under the circumstances. "Always enjoy poking where they shouldn't." 

"Artanth's the same way," he admitted. "He likes you."

" _He's_ not the problem." 

"Oh, so it's personal, then?" 

Mara didn't answer. 

"Look, I know you hate me, but you've always hated me, even before our dragons-- and I don't understand why. We'd never even really talked before--" 

" _You_ happened," Mara snapped, unable to restrain herself any longer. "You came out of a tenth-rate farm on an obscure minor holding and Impressed a dragon when you stumbled across a hatching by chance. You took command of the Rebellion and won the Weyrwars and destroyed my life in the process. I had power--I had prestige--I had _everything_ at Fort until you took it from me--" 

He gave up all pretenses of fiddling with the door. "I didn't know you were an Imperialist." 

"It doesn't matter. None of it matters now." She thought of the old system, the old ways, the glory of the Weyrs as it had once been, when all the holdings groveled before the might of Weyrleader Palpatine of Fort Weyr. "I was only a green rider, the Weyrleader's personal courier. I delivered messages, and--when the last battle came, I was away. I wasn't there when you killed him--" 

She couldn't forget the images her master had projected into her mind at the moment of his death. She'd always been able to hear him, even without Laranth as an intermediary. Palpatine had screamed as Zeeronth buckled underneath him, as Skywalker and Palpatine's traitorous Wingsecond had turned on him, their bronze dragons belching fire as the Weyrleader and his dragon shrieked and _burned_ \-- 

She didn't realize she was babbling aloud until Skywalker interrupted her. "That's not how it happened at all," he said. "Artanth and I were on the ground, unable to fly. Palpatine and Zeeronth were about to murder us both when Vader intervened-- _He_ killed Palpatine. I didn't do anything." 

A long pause stretched out between them. "You're lying," Mara said at last, when she could speak. "I _saw_ it." 

"From a certain point of view, perhaps. Would you like to see mine? I can ask Artanth to show Laranth--" 

No. No, she didn't. "Get me out of here or I will kill you," she growled, yanking on her leathers, her tunic, anything to cover herself with so she could escape this place, and get away from _him_ , the liar--

"All right." He turned back to the door and began to work with the lock again. There was a click as the bolt loosened and light spilled into the storeroom as the door inched forward. He sat back, leaving the opening clear for her. "You know how to find me if you change your mind--" 

But she was already running up the corridor and out of sight before he could finish his sentence.


End file.
